


Martha Kane, The Batman

by Gemini_00



Series: Batfamily Shorts [11]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Batfamily, Batfamily Feels, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Hurt, Killing, Martha Wayne is Batman, Other, death is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 17:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17688131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_00/pseuds/Gemini_00
Summary: In another world, five years ago, a young Bruce Wayne was shot and killed in that alley. In that world, a woman became a dark knight with bloodthirsty vengeance. Martha Kane lost it all. She was Batman.In another world, many many years ago, Bruce Wayne lost his parents and became the dark knight Gotham needed. The one that refused to kill. The one that many would aspire to be and fear to meet.Two Batman meet each other, and all they can think about it the children





	Martha Kane, The Batman

“You’re Batman from another universe?” Bruce asked Martha Wayne from a whole other universe. The woman was wearing armor that made her look like a slim man. She looked as young as the day that she died. She stared at him.

“Yes. It seems criminals fear a man running around wearing a bat suit rather than a dangerous masked woman,” she frowned, “you’re alive here. And an adult. In my earth, you died five years ago.”

“You died when I was ten,” He told her, “Alfred took care of me after you and father were murdered in an alley. We went to see-”

“Zorro,” Martha nodded, “For your birthday, it was only five years ago for me when I lost my little boy. I remember fairly clearly.”

“I’ve met alternate version where I was the one to die. Usually it was my father that-”

Martha scoffed, “Thomas Wayne, I’m shocked.”

She felt bad when she watched the expression fall across her grown son’s face. She should have realized how enamoured this Bruce would be by his father. Her little boy was the same, in fact she use to be too until she found her purpose. Thomas didn’t approve, all he wanted to do was hide away and drink himself away. 

“It’s a darker place where I am from,” she frowned, “and I suggest you hang up that cape if-”

“I think I’ve been at this a little longer than you,” Bruce cut in, “No offense mo- Martha.”

She caught it. The boy, no, he was a man here, was disassociating herself from whatever version of mother he held here. He must not be pleased by this outcome, “I assume you don’t like me very much.”

“It’s not that,” He told her shortly. It was that exactly, and that was okay, she didn’t like the brutal way her son slammed her into a wall prior. She didn’t like his short and cold attitude or his judgmental stare when he watched her kill an arsonist earlier, “We don’t kill in my city.”

“Well you didn’t lose a child,” Her words dared.

“Father-” a high pitch voice called. It sounded like it had a rough british accent that was beginning to form into a more american one.

“Go upstairs-” 

But it was already too late when the little boy stepped down. He was wearing dark jogging pants and a tight shirt that she would wear under armor. His green eyes nearly popping out of his head when he saw her, “Father, why does this look like Grandmother?”

“I have a grandson,” she whispered more to herself than anybody.

“Dames, I told you that he was busy,” A young man with olive skin and black wavy hair came down. He sounded like the man over the comms that was told to shut down the cave when she emerged, “Oh wow. I was not expecting this when you said it was a family thing.”

Bruce grabbed the child harshly, the one that looked like a duplicate of the one she lost in the alley. He ushered the boy towards the man, “Both of you are not to come down here again.”

“B,” the man almost said in a whisper, “If this is anything like when Thomas came- then I think you should let us help.”

“Dick, take your brother upstairs now,” Bruce demanded. The boy made eye contact with the woman and her heart launched out of her chest. Brother, they were brothers meaning that she had two grandchildren. Of course, they weren’t hers. But another Martha who died long ago. 

“You have children?” She asked, “Is it just them?”

“Yes,” the man was a very good liar. But she was his mothers and he had the same tells her ten year old did when he tried to hide the stray animals from her in the manor.

“There are more,” She began with joy but then frowned, “And you chose this lifestyle?”

“It’s complicated,” He chose to answer, “They came to me when I was already too deep.”

Bruce doesn’t understand why he is explaining himself to a murderer. Psychologically, it has to be that the woman is a version of his mother. Admittedly, one that has been turned into a killer by losing her only child. And a small voice in the back of his head reminds him of when Jason died, before Tim came along to save the man. Then again when Damian died. When Cassandra died. When Stephanie died.

“Too deep,” She repeated, “The tortured Batman adopts a horde of orphans.”

Batman glared because while she may be his mother on some Earth, it is not this one. She will not ruin his own dream of his mother meeting his children, the proud smile on her face as she embraces them all.

“We are not having this conversation, you are returning to your world,” Batman told her. But her face becomes stern like his own mother’s had when her mind had been made.   
“I’d like to meet the children my son cared for,” She sternly declared.

“I have a feeling you would not approve of what I allow them to do and what I don’t. As you are not my specific mother, I think it would be best for both of us not to become attached,” Bruce did his best to dissociate himself from the matter at hand. Did his best to let Batman take over. But she was not doing the same. He’d never met a version of his mother that took on the mantle like this, a few of his father who dealt with emotions the same way Bruce had. Martha Kane chose to embrace it all face on; anger, disappointment, greif, and joy.

“You will allow me to meet them,” She had an abrasive air around her, the entitlement clear to her. Bruce always thought that Damian inherited his brattiness from Talia’s side. Maybe, he was a little off.

“Red Robin and Black Bat will return from patrol in about another two hours,” He told her cooly. Her eyes widened.

“You let your children become apart of this crusade?” Her anger was flaring and Bruce felt the splash of guilt hit him. Something he hated himself for allowing to happen, hated himself for knowing exactly what his parents would think of dragging children into this, letting them die. 

“You will not berate me here. You will not berate me infront of what is mine. I am not your Bruce and this is not your world. I am allowing you to meet another Martha’s grandchildren and nothing else. Am I clear?” Bruce allowed Batman to enter into his voice. She had a sharp glare but stepped down, “You should change. Stephanie should have something that will fit you, Alfred doesn’t like capes upstairs.”

“Alfred is here?” Her head perked up. The man was loyal to the Wayne family in her world, but he and Martha still went for tea every monday morning.

“Who do you think raised me?” Bruce scoffed.

~

The girl Stephanie, Martha figured, must be short. Martha was quite tall and the leggings were clearly meant to fell to her ankle but came almost mid calf. The girls style consisted or pink and purple tops. It made Martha smile to think of whatever little girl Bruce might have raised to be so girlie but frowned when her Bruce was dead and this Bruce let his children galavant through the night.

She left the cave waiting to meet Bruce in the library but instead found an elderly, unmistakable man waiting for her. Her eyes almost teared up at a man - who on her Earth was young and maintained a head full of hair.

“Miss Martha, it is wonderful to see you again,” He smiled widely at her. She wrapped her arms around her, closely. Embracing something still so familiar.

“Oh thank you, Alfred,” She wanted to cry, “Thank you for doing your best to take care of your boy.”

“Miss Martha,” The englishman sounded like a broken record with heavy guilt.

“Shh,” Martha whispered, “She, Me, we adore you so much.”

They parted, letting each compose themselves. She laughed at how silly it was, she was older than Alfred yet he was the old man here. The small shriek attacked their ears from a distance.

“Give them a minutes, Dames,” The voice, the one from the older man.

“Grayson, I demand you put me down! I require to-” The voice sounded like they were struggling when the shrieks increased to giggles, “Thomas, get him off.”

“Bruce named a child after Thomas?” She asked Alfred.

“That would be Master Damian calling his brothers by their last names. It’s Duke Thomas. Come, I will introduce you to the family,” Alfred ushered her towards one of the main rooms. It was shockingly the one more hidden towards the back of the manor which Martha believes is intended when she looks at the rather ‘teen’ friendly room. There are pictures surrounding the room that she doesn’t look at, too focused on the three boy- one is a young man- in the room. An african american teenager, that must be Duke Thomas, plays video games on the couch with some equipment just similar enough to her world that she can recognize it. He puts it down immediately at her presence.

“Wow,” The eldest, Dick, stares at her, “Thought I’d only ever meet you through a painting.”

She smiled, “Well, I never thought I’d meet you. I’m Martha Kane.”

“Dick Grayson, Brucie’s first and favorite child,” The young man had a charming smile across his face when he developed her in a hug which she gladly received. It had been so long since she embraced anyone other than her nieces into hugs.

“And my biggest headache,” the man in question emerged from the dark. Like mother, like son, she thought to herself. 

“And I am Damian Wayne,” The boy who looked so much like Bruce busted through, “The blood son.”

“Damian,” Bruce warned. The boy simply rolled his eyes.

“I’m not stating that I am superior due to my heritage. I’m just stating my heritage,” Damian pouted. Richard ruffled his hair in response, but when the child stuck out his hand like a grown man, she could not help herself from swiping him up. Bruce stepped forward but let was held back by Alfred. The boy stiffened in her arm but eventually relaxed.

“I suppose this is appropriate,” Damian told her, very prim and proper. She let him down before apologizing.

“Sorry. You just look very much like him,” She wiped her eyes a bit. It created an awkward atmosphere.

“Uh hey, I’m Duke,” the teenager emerged, “Bruce’s sorta-kinda foster kid. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Wayne.”

She doesn’t bother correcting him by saying Miss Kane as she does so many times in her world. She simply hugs the teenager who awkwardly pats her on the back. She watches Bruce out of the corner of her eyes, the way he halfway melts into the view and also stand to the side like a protective parent, Duke is much more than a sorta-kinda foster kid to her son if this world.

“Dickiebird, this better be important. The Red Hood has some bullets to- Holy shit,” A young hispanic man, possibly a teenager walked into the room with a booming voice. He had eyes that Martha remembered Ra’s al Ghul of her world having but they flicker between the turquoise blue and lazarus green. His dark hair is contrasted by a white streak. He lets out a litter of spanish curses before ending it with a final, “Hold fucking fuck.”

“Master Jason!” Alfred yelled, “Do remember you are in the presence of me, your grandmother, and a highly impressionable young boys.”

“Hardly,” Damian stuck his little nose up.

Martha laughed though. He reminded her of herself going through a spunk phase to annoy her mother. He’s definitely a Wayne even if not by blood, “Oh Alfred, I don’t mind.”

“Remember that breacher thing we mentioned before, Jay,” Dick interrupted, “Meet Martha Wayne, a Batman from another earth.”

“Wait, you kick ass and take names on your Earth? You’re the Batman,” Jason stared at her, “Badass women are way cooler than this mediocre bunch.”

“Just how many children do you have?” She looked at Bruce.  
“Far too many,” Damian sighed.

“Says the last of us,” Jason snapped, “How’ve you been Demon Brat?”

“Do not touch me,” The child glared.

“Lock your annoying brother in a closet one time and he automatically assumes that you’re out to get him,” Jason held a devilish smirk.

~

Jason left before Cassandra and Tim, the last of Bruce’s legal children returned. She found that the clothing she wore belonged to a member of the Batfamily being Tim’s girlfriend and Cassandra’s best friend. Dick was suppose to leave but she heard the whispers shared between the acrobat and the Batman of this world. There was no way the young man was leaving Bruce’s side.

“Cassandra Martha Cain Wayne,” a voice, almost a whisper spoke to her. Martha was shocked to learn just how sneaky this famaily could be when she has trained herself since the night in the alley never to be snuck up on again. 

“Repeat that,” Martha asked. She recognized the girl from the pictures around the manor, putting together rather easily that this was Cassandra.

“Cassandra Martha Cain- Wayne,” The girl repeated, “Name.”

Martha’s heart almost gave out, “Your middle name is Martha.”

Cassandra nodded, “You are Dad mom.”

“I’m a version of your father’s mother,” Martha nodded, “It’s complicated but wow.”

The girl wore a shirt with a Nightwing emblem that was far tojo large on her and pajama pants with green and pink poc-a-dots. There was a cut on her face, and messy hair that Matha also got pre-patrol.

It hurt Martha so much to see something she’d never have, but she kept smiling. Still the girl frowned, “Hurt. Sad.”

“Just in mourning,” She told the girl.

“Mou-moruning,” The girl tried to sound out.

“It’s when you miss someone very much,” Martha told her, “I’m going to miss you very much.”

Cassandra was everything she could have wanted in a daughter.

~

“This is so high tech, considering how far behind your world is compared to ours,” Tim stared at her equipment.

“We could be technology years ahead of you,” Martha told the boy. She loved his mind, the way he calculated her every move. It reminded her of Thomas, whom she once loved. She hopes he doesn’t turn into the lush.

“Man, that’s crash,” Tim hummed.

“I’m tutoring your mother right now, I’m surprised to hear she had children,” She says as she runs her finger through Tim’s hair. If she had to pick a child that reminds her the most of Bruce. It’d be the damaged genius. Hell, he reminds her of Thomas and her both.

“Yeah. You did that here too. It’s why she always dragged me to Wayne galas,” Tim agreed, “She was an amazing woman, but not the best mom.”

Martha is almost sure that is hereditary, Tim’s grandmother is quite awful to her daughter. Neglectful almost, it seems Martha’s kind teaching need to appear more so during their lessons. Maybe she can prevent any future damage for her Timothy Drake.

She stares off at her boy, who her boy could have became if she were the one behind the bullet. And god she wishes that were true, but at the same time… the man is so broken, so morally torn, but so good in his own way. Stable after his children passing in a way that she will never be. But maybe that is for the best.

“You know,” Timothy began, “You could stay or hop around a bit. We have some of those. I think- I know he would like it even if he doesn’t seem like it.”

She thinks of staying here. Of protecting her baby and her baby’s babies. She thinks of having tea with this Alfred, but alas it is all a faux. This world’s Martha created this world’s Batman. Another world’s Bruce created another world’s Batman. Her being here could alter them both in unimaginable ways. The lives they lead are dangerous. She would not hesitate to kill for him, she would not hesitate to sacrifice something for him. It’s clear the same cannot be said for him for her. 

“Dear child,” she caresses his face, “Keep your tender heart and your logical brain. In the end, both will agree on the best thing for you.”  
~

 

It comes down to her and her son, a man that her Bruce would never be able to be. Maybe she felt happy for him, maybe she didn’t. He most likely had the same thoughts for her.

He seemed torn, “I wish you could stay, but-”

“I’m not your, Martha,” she finished, “It would be cruel to pretend that I am.”

“I’ve been burnt in the past by dimension jumping parents,” he told her.

“I understand, my prince,” she couldn’t help but touch him, “Perhaps you were right on getting attached being the wrong idea. But I’m not as upset as I should be.”

He pushed her hands away from him after letting it linger long enough. He shoved the device in her hand, his stoic expression giving away no emotions, “There can only be one Batman here. And he cannot kill for anyone or anything.”

“Goodbye, my prince,” She spoke, her Batsuit on except the cowl. With the added height from the boots, they were nearly eye level. She presses a tender kiss to his head before leaving.

And there, Bruce cries for Martha Wayne yet again.

**Author's Note:**

> So there was a request of the Waynes meeting their grandchildren... or something similar to flashpoint. I tried to add my own take in what could be a very interesting concept. Martha Kane is a very flat character that no one adds anything too and I tried to make this balance in her. She's everything Bruce isn't. She's the killer with a heart of gold. But, I really couldn't get into it without making a full fic. So feel free to use this idea however you want too. I did my best, but unfortunately it feels rather dry.


End file.
